Unacknowledged Legislations

Unacknowledged
Legislations
Steve Henn
Books™
The New York Quarterly Foundation, Inc.
New York, New York
A. The President of the Disunited Statements of Bardic Manifestos
B. Zaya Henn—eldest daughter/inspiration
C. Dave Thompson—Poetry All Star/photographer/awesome shirt-wearer
D. Unky Steve Hively— Invisible Robot/confidante
E. Nate White- mouthharpist/cohomebrewer/Invisible Robot
F. Chris Foster—colleague/mentor
G. Ken Janda—as proxy for his brother, He Whom the Ladies Love
H. Kaveh Akbar—young punk/Poetry All Star/short order cook
I. Oren Wagner—Poetry All Star/godfather/tweeting savant
NYQ Books™ is an imprint of The New York Quarterly Foundation, Inc.
The New York Quarterly Foundation, Inc.
P. O. Box 2015
Old Chelsea Station
New York, NY 10113
www.nyqbooks.org
Copyright © 2011 by Steve Henn
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any
manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.
First Edition
Set in New Baskerville typeface.
Layout and Design by Raymond P. Hammond
Cover Photo by Lydia Henn
Library of Congress Control Number: 2010941897
ISBN: 978-1-935520-24-5
Table of Contents
Foreword by Kaveh Akbar / xi
I. Politics
Come Live on My Commune! / 17
7 Layers of Irony Like the (In)famous Salad / 18
Why I’ll Never Be an Artist / 19
Philosophers’ Symposium on Animal Rights: “The Cow:
Subject or Object?” / 20
Democrat Sighting Reported in Kosciusko County / 21
A Virtual Tour of Brass Tacks Supermarket / 22
Sin Tax / 23
Confessions of a Flaming Liberal / 24
In Our Crappy, Crappy Economy, Here Are Some
People Who’ve Got It Worse Than You / 25
When Obama Was Inaugurated / 26
American Teen / 27
II. History
The 30th Anniversary Warsaw Community Commemorative
Book Burning / 33
Dine-n-Dash with Abraham Lincoln / 34
God of Thunder Joins Eco-Terrorists / 36
When I Peed Myself at the Bob Dylan Show / 37
Revisionist Literary History: Saint Hank / 40
Revisionist Literary History: Medieval Women / 41
Top Secret Ingredients in the Coca Cola Formula / 42
The End of the World / 43
Things to Do in Kosciusko County When You’re Sixteen Minutes from
the Apocalypse / 44
VIII
III. Faith
Good Friday / 47
How to Avoid the Angry Eyes of God / 48
A Note to Dr. David Haines / 49
Dark Heaven / 50
Church League Softball / 51
The Devil Is a Whipsmart Salesman / 52
At the RCIA Meeting / 53
Abortion Doctor Granted Nobel Prize for Creative Moralizing / 54
Icons of Long-Gone Heroes Appearing Miraculously / 55
On the Day Before My Eldest Child’s First Communion / 56
During Advent, at Mass / 57
IV. Sexuality
Royal Rumble: Gay Pride Parade and Klan Demonstration / 61
Homosexual Mercenaries Take over Baghdad / 62
How to Turn Yourself Into a Stalker / 63
Professional Advice / 64
Excerpts from My New Patient History at Northern Indiana Urology / 65
Wanted: Mistress / 66
How I Met My Wife: The Movie Version / 67
My Cousin Who Did a Line of Coke Off Paris Hilton’s Ass / 68
Minivan Warrior / 69
Novelty Item / 70
At the Shrink’s II: The Magazine Rack / 71
The Homosexual Agenda / 72
IX
V. after Ginsberg
(Sigh) / 75
VI. Third Person
Myrtle Beach / 87
Gil’s 10,000th Beer / 88
Identity Theft / 90
Questions from Students / 91
The Great Indiana Corn Detasseling Poem / 92
Poem in the Manner of a Beatnik Hipster Psychobabbler Writing an
Introductory Essay to a Newly Published Book of My Poems / 93
Promotional Considerations / 94
Nine Non-Lethal Uses for Your Standard Issue Suicide Machine / 95
VII. First Person
The Deer / 99
I Stole This Nasty Prank and Made It into a Poem / 101
The Egg Problem / 102
How to Succeed in Rock-n-Roll without Really Trying / 103
Daydream / 104
Scenes from a Movie about My Wife and I Arguing over
Having More Kids / 105
I Am a Poet / 106
Have You Ever Been in Walmart? / 108
When I Die / 109
X
Philosophers’ Symposium on Animal Rights: “The Cow:
Subject or Object?”
Attempting to settle the question with finality,
Do animals have rights? a gathering of national philosophers
and ethicists took up the question: the cow, subject or object?
at a C-SPAN-televised roundtable discussion. While some contended
that the cow is definitely an object, a four-legged conglomeration of beef
and beef-related articles, others were more generous. “Is it a pet cow?”
one eminent philosopher asked. A tangential discussion
of whether pet cows existed ensued, and after an impasse, the panel
determined that if a pet, a cow may be a subject,
granting it the right (like a dog) not to be killed
unless medical expenses became too much for the caretaker
to bear. Others noted that dairy cows, whether subject
or object, had a better life than the average female human,
who doesn’t get her teats massaged or expressed
nearly as much as is reproductively and physically healthy.
They reached no final conclusion despite the exhortations
of a PETA agitator in the audience screaming, “Cows are people too!”
wearing a shirt reading, “If you prick them, do they not moo?”
and attempting to throw a shepherd’s pie in the face
of the most vociferously pro-object panelist. The discussion
degenerated into a string theory–like mess
of hypotheticals and abstraction when mired in the issue
of the Ubercow: the cow who develops a supercow
intelligence and therefore is bound no longer by the physical,
emotional, or moral chains that have subjugated the species
for centuries. Indeed, the very raising of the issue
created such a hubbub that a S.W.A.T. team was called in
to tear-gas the convention center. No animals were injured
in the evacuation of the facility.
20
Copyright © 2011 by Steve Henn
Dark Heaven
In blank-slate first-grade nun-taught youth
I thought heaven was dark, for God so loved the world
He gave His only sun. Once spirited there,
no outdoor dodgeball could be played, swimming
was always Marco Polo and spiritual torches never stopped burning.
If the beauties of parochial school (such as the nun)
could light the way, surely Kingdom Come would shine
with at least a little radiance. But the dull moon paleness
of death refused me, even if it hadn’t there was
the matter of the C’s in religion and the damn-the-devil game
we played with Holy Rosaries round our necks.
Over the years, I sloughed off skin-thin faith
like so many dead cells. That is, until the blue note
crowd pumping like a Sacred Heart, soul coughing
and superchunk holding forth in the True Spirit.
Heaven was dark, back lighting casting forth
traveling preachers’ silhouettes, guitars
shining like volcanic glass, cigarette smoke
and stale beer the stuff of my Elysian fields.
Preceded by a purgatory of impatient penitents
crowding near the stage, heaven stood outside of time and earth,
and yet left me wondering how it could linger so,
black marker Xs on the backs of my hands, pride
of the acolyte, stigmata afterthought of the fantastic ceremony,
walking home out there on the cold street,
in the cold night, the street-lit night
and like a choir of fallen angels the ringing in my ears.
50
Copyright © 2011 by Steve Henn
Have You Ever Been in Walmart?
Oh, man! Have you ever
been in Walmart and really looked around
at all those people? Simians everywhere.
Cro-Magnons. Half-men half-monkeys.
Cave women with no light in their eyes.
I can’t figure out if people go to Walmart
because they’re stupid, or if they become
stupid because they go to Walmart. I’m in there
½ hour ago picking up toenail clippers,
a garden hose, the latest Rascal Flatts CD,
an XL T-shirt with a Bugs Bunny University logo,
and a wheel of Sam’s Choice liverwurst—you know,
regular Walmart stuff—and I’m waiting
to check out, and it’s like I have this cosmic
brain reaction where I can see everybody’s IQ
shimmering above their heads like tongues of flame,
and most of ‘em are like 72, 74, 63…
and then I have this total paranoid hallucination
that since I came in the sliding doors the Rapture
had begun, only Jesus is this complete intellectual elitist
with meaningless PhDs in Transubstantiation
and Creationist Evolution and Middle Eastern Surrealist Literature,
and all the intelligent people have—poof! you know, gone
above, and somehow I got Left Behind™
with some presidential Antichrist poised to lead an army
of nimrods into genocide of the remaining intelligentsia
so I’ve got this total intellectual inferiority complex
compounded by the fact that some perverted form of Christianity
is making the Universe go ‘round, and then I realize
that I let my medication lapse over a week ago
so I beeline to the pharmacy, begging God
all the while to make my heart stop beating
before drowning in a sea of idiots
like the antihero of a ‘70s sci-fi movie
starring Charlton Heston as Satan’s right hand man.
108
Copyright © 2011 by Steve Henn